Sentence
by The Fool's Masquerade
Summary: Betelgeuse is threatened with exorcism, and as it turns out, the sole person who can determine his fate is Lydia Deets. Now, he'll have to toe the line and stay on her good side, else his soul may end up floating lost in a dank room for the rest of eternity. But hell, having a hot highschooler for a babysitter might not be so bad. Read and Review, please!
1. Chapter 1

"Boss, number 9,998,383,750,000 is here to see you." a young corpse receptionist called to Juno in a sickly voice. Juno huffed once and puffed her cigarette before waving at the girl to show her client in. The aged caseworker looked over the thick file in front of her as smoke seeped from the slit in her throat.

"Damned bastard's gonna love this..." she muttered. A small shriek and a loud smack caused Juno to raise her brow in question at the door as it opened. In he stepped, looking vexed as he rubbed his face with his hand. Juno snorted at him.

What the fuck had happened to his head?

"Hey!" he called out the door in a high-pitched squeak. His head was the size og a golfball, and looked comical sitting atop his broad shoulders. "Just givin' you a damned compliment, babes!" he turned to Juno and slammed the door behind him. "I mean, shit, when did sayin' 'I'd do ya' become such a bad thing, huh, granny?" he said, and plopped down in the weathered seat in front of her desk before kicking his feet up onto it. She stared at him for a moment as she took another puff from the cigarette.

"Hey, 'Geuse. Long time no annoyance. How've ya been?" she asked casually to her ex-assistant. He cocked his shriveled head to the side in mock interest and laced his pale fingers together.

"Well, can't complain. I only got eating by a fuckin' sandworm on what was s'posed to be my weddin' day. Then this happens to me," he gestured to his head, "by some shaman voodoo prick..." he paused, looking into the air for something else to list, "Oh, yeah, and my balls itch, but that's about it. How've you been, granny?" he asked. He went to rest his chin on the palm of his hand, but remembered how small his head was, and sighed angrily.

"Something the matter, 'Geuse?" Juno asked in amusement. He glowered back at her.

"Naw fuckin' shit, sherlock. Can't you fix this or somethin'!" he replied. Juno sighed and snapped her fingers. With a sickening pop, his head went back to its normal size, and he grabbed it painfully. "Sweet Jesus, that fuckin' hurt!" Juno eyed his pale face, splotched with grime and mold, in subtle disapproval. Her eyes trailed to his frizzled green and yellow hair. Damn, he needed a comb...

"You're welcome. Now, for the reason why you're here-"

"Hold it, can't hear a word you're sayin'. There's this buzzin' goin' on..." he held a hand up for her to wait as he seemed to attempt to unblock something from his ear. He finally pulled from it a red and black beetle, and examined it before biting off it's wax covered head with his yellowed teeth. "Please continue." he said. Juno shook her head and looked back to his file.

"As I was saying, the reason why you're here-"

"Yeah, 'cause I need a job." he said, and leaned forward in his seat. "But first I was thinkin' maybe a break in Maui or somethin', 'cause that waiting room can really make you beat, and since the sandworm incident, I'm not much ready to commit to a job or-"

"Nope. Not this time, 'Geuse." she said back to him. She rested her arms on her desk and looked him dead into his sunken eyes. "I'm not gonna sugarcoat this for you, kid. You really fucked yourself over with the Deets' and and the Maitlands." she said. He rolled his eyes.

"Don't worry about that. I am _never_ takin' business from those losers again-"

"They aren't the problem here. It's _you_. You nearly outed our existence to the entire world with your erratic behavior, and tried to marry a living person so you could walk in the Land of the Living freely, which would make the first thing you nearly did even worse. We're running a tight operation here, kid, and you're anarchic meddling has given everyone enough paperwork to last two life-times. The big bosses don't like the disorder, 'Geuse. They're serious now. You're in deep." Juno said. He waved his hand dismissively.

"So what, do I gotta do community service or some shit?" he asked. Juno pulled a paper from his file and set it in front of him. He picked it up and read it over. His eyes widened. "What's this about a fuckin' hearing!?" he asked.

"It is exactly what it is, 'Geuse. You're going to court under serious charges that we have way too much evidence for. You'll have a tough time pleading innocent to all this." she flopped the file in front of him, and he stared dumbfounded at it.

"What the fuck are the penalties if I'm found guilty?" he asked. Juno lit another cigarette before casting him a look of pity and disapproval with her tired eyes.

"Exorcism, Betelgeuse."


	2. Drowning in Sorrows and Booze

"Shit no!"

"'Geuse, you-"

"Screw that to hell!"

"-really need to-"

"_Fuck the police_!"

"Geuse, _calm the hell down_!" Juno snapped at the delirious ghoul, and pointed a threatening finger at him. He snarled at her and slammed his fists onto the desk.

"I'm about to be fuckin' stuck in a _broom closet _with a bunch of deadbeat souls for the _rest of eternity,_ and you're tellin' me to _calm down_!? _Fuck! That!_" The window behind Juno cracked, and she glared at him.

"Don't break my things, and sit your ass down before I lose my temper. You don't want that..." she said dangerously. He regarded the woman for a moment before finally slumping back into the seat, his face holding an expression of lividity.

"I don't deserve this." he muttered. Juno rolled her eyes.

"If exorcism wasn't an eternal thing, I'd have you thrown in that so-called broom closet for a good couple thousand years. You deserve some damned punishment, 'Geuse, but even I think it shouldn't be eternal." She took back the file and flipped through some of the papers inside. "This isn't the only file, you know." she said. "There's a few dozen filing cabinets filled with the shit you've done. This is only the most recent."

"And?" he asked, not seeming to give a damn as he picked at his long fingernails. Juno sighed exasperatedly at him.

"What I'm saying is you're lucky I'm helping your sorry ass. I have to search through this shit to find _anything_ that might help your damned case. That's a lot of overtime."

"Didn't know you cared, granny."

"I_ don't_ care. I'm your caseworker; it's my job."

"Uh-huh, you know you love me."

"I'd_ love_ to beat you with a sharp object for giving me such a hassle. The hearing is next week. I'll contact you if I find something. Now get out, I have other clients." she said, and waved him away. He stood and walked out of the room, knowing she wouldn't find a damned thing that would help him.

"I'm a dead man.." he mumbled when he reached the lobby.

"No, shit.." said the receptionist he had hit on earlier. He hooded his eyes at her and grinned.

"Shut the fuck up, _ugly._" he said, and was out the door in a fit of giggles before she could toss a potted plant at his head. Once he was in the street, he looked around. A thin veil of purpled fog coated the ground, stirring as he took steps down the familiar quiet streets. Netherworld was very plain. A plain place with too many rules. He thought of the Land of the Living, and how he had almost freed himself from such rules. Breathers would have no power over him even if they tried their damnedest. Besides, the broads in the Land of the Living were more..._lively_ than the chicks in Netherworld.

He'd have been done with this place.

He'd have been out.

But those damned Maitland's fucked it all up.

He stopped in his tracks, staring hard down the cracked street as he thought of the Maitland broad who rode the giant sandworm that swallowed him whole. He thought of Adam Maitland...eh, he didn't do much, the jerk-off.

Then there was the _one that got away..._

He scrunched his brow, trying to remember that kid's name. Shit...

"Lilly-no...Lauri...Lynn-Lyds-_Lydia_, yeah, Lydia. Lyds is better." he said, and returned to walking down the path towards the bar known as "Napoleon's Skull". Lydia Deetz' image played in his mind. He frowned. "Stupid teenaged brat. Wasn't worth my time, anyway."

He reached the bar, a shady little place that was falling apart at the seams. He walked into the dark building, past the pool table, and sat on a stool at the bar. A skeleton with yellowed bones and missing teeth walked up to him, and groaned.

"You again?" he asked in a french accent. 'Geuse looked up at the barkeep's skull and sneered.

"No way to talk to a customer, Jacky-Baby. You might lose my business." he said. The skeleton scoffed, and grabbed an empty stein from the shelf. He set it roughly down and filled it with ale.

"My name is Jacques, you pompous-ass. And what business! All you do is drink and leave, never paying your damned tab!" he said. 'Geuse took the stein from him.

"Don't worry much longer, Frenchman. I'll be out of your skull in a week's time." he said, and gulped down the beer. Jacques snorted and shook his head.

"Planning to escape again? Your schemes never work."

"Nope. No schemes, no plans."

"Then what?"

"I'm bein' exorcised." he said, and Jacques paused, his hollow sockets darkening.

"This isn't some damned game to get me to feel sorry for you and let you have all the beer you want, is it? Because I swear to Beata Maria, I'll-"

"No, no, no, calm the fuck down before you fall over yourself." 'Geuse said, waving his hands and shaking his head. "No lies this time. I'm truly, and honestly fucked." Jacques peered closely at him for several moments before speaking again.

"Yes, I guess you are. I am sorry, my friend. Is there anything I could do?"

"Gorge me with beer until I acquire eternal fuckin' drunkenness." he answered. Jacques shook his head and refilled the stein, which 'Geuse took gratefully.

"It's your own fault, you know. You could have done many a thing to avoid such a fate."

"Blah-blah-blah, shut the hell up, I know. Follow the fuckin' rules like a good boy an' live forever in this waste area."

"The Land of the Living isn't all flowers and rainbows, either."

"Gods, I hope not..."

"What I mean is it's not all it's cracked up to be. We die for a reason, and that's to get away from that place."

"I thought it was because our bodies stopped functioning..."

"What I'm trying to say is you're glorifying a place that may only disappoint you if you were ever able to go to it. It's changed much since you've died, you know. I see Newcomers walking in wearing the oddest styles of clothing these days. I saw a young suicide girl walk in sporting the shortest short-pants I've ever seen in life and death. It's almost scary." Jacques shuddered slightly.

"Sounds hot." 'Geuse said, and hit his head against the table. "Chicks weren't so 'open' back in my living day. Stingy bitches, the lot of 'em."

"You're not one to revisit the old days of the living, 'Geuse. You really must be in one hell of a situation."

"Hell would be preferred over eternity with the two-timed dead."

"Maybe they'll allow you to bring with you a deck of cards..."

"I'll be the life of the fuckin' party..."

...

Back in the Land of the Living, Lydia Deetz, highschool senior, sat in her dark purple cadillac de-vil, staring at the large white house that towered in front of her. She brushed her pointed black bangs from her eyes and tapped a delicate pale finger on the steering wheel, wondering whether or not she should just drive off now, before having to deal with her dear step-mother's nagging. She looked down at her attire. Black and white striped blouse, and a black skirt that reached mid-thigh. Knee-high black boots, and black hose. Her eyes glanced at the rearview mirror to see her lids were coated in black eyeshadow and liner. Yes, Delia would have a field day.

Lydia had tried, she really did, to change her way of dressing. She tried the pink blouses and the poofy frills. She even sported a floral patterned dress once when Delia dragged her to a bookclub meeting. All to no avail. Lydia couldn't stand the social preference of female dress. It was too girlish, too feminine..

Too normal...

"Strange and unusual..." she muttered to herself. That was the best quick description of the eighteen-year-old girl. And sadly, ever since she'd been transferred from the girl's school to the public highschool, the people around her had begun to realize that. She no longer needed to wear her typical school uniform, and she wore what she usually did to school.

That was a bad idea.

Apparently, Green River Highschool didn't take kindly to those who dressed like they were about to attend a funeral for the fun of it. Only a few days there, and Lydia was labeled 'witch' by the least mature of the student body, and did the teachers do anything about it? No, of course not. Back at her old school, the girls were much kinder, not really caring about Lydia's actions, and she was happy to say that she had made friends while attending. But this place...

This place made her feel...depressed. "To want to hide like a spider in a dark corner, and watch the world play out in front of me from a distance, wondering where I really belong in all this." she said. Her eyes hooded. Her poetic quips were becoming more dark as the days went by, and that made her wary. Her bouts of depression hadn't been so terrible ever since the Maitlands had helped her out. They'd kept her happy, and lead her along the right path. Because of that dear pair of ghosts, she'd become much more comfortable with living.

"If only my real parents were so...parental..." she sighed. Her father, the birdwatcher, and her step-mother, the supposed artist, each too caught up with their own lives to really pay attention to hers. She rest her forehead on the steering wheel and slammed her eyes shut. "Quit...being...so...damned...depressing..." she scolded herself. Taking a deep breath, and sat back up and opened the car door to get out. "Homework should get my mind off of things..." she tried to state brightly after slinging her backpack over her shoulder and closing the door. When she reached the steps, she paused. A slight chill ran up her spine, and she swung the front door open.

"Dad? Delia? I'm home!" she called warily. No answer. "Dad? Delia?!" her voice was becoming panicked. "Guys!"

"Lydia-"

"Omigod!" Lydia jumped when Adam Maitland spoke, and he raised a bewildered brow at her as he adjusted his thick glasses.

"That's not usual of you, Lydia..." he said. Lydia was catching her breath, and waved the comment away.

"It's...nothing. Where's dad and Delia?" she asked.

"They went out to buy groceries. They should be back in an hour or so." he replied, and rest a chilly Netherworldian hand on her shoulder. "Are you sure you're alright? You look like you saw a ghost." he said, cracking a small smile, and Lydia smirked. Typical dry humor of Mr. Maitland.

"I'm fine, I just felt funny while outside."

"Are you sick?" Lydia looked up to see Barbara walking down the stairs, her brown locks bouncing around her face as she stepped.

"No, it's really weird. I just...felt like something bad was going to happen. Silly, isn't it?" Lydia finished quickly. Adam and Barbara looked at each other, grave expressions on their faces.

"I told you it wasn't a coincidence." Barbara said.

"Well, I didn't know..." Adam replied. Lydia furrowed her brow and looked back and forth at the two ghosts.

"What isn't a coincidence?"

"We've been feeling on edge since a few hours ago. It's made us jumpy, like you." Adam said, and leaned against the wall. "I just thought it was nothing. But now that you're on edge...I don't know..."

"When did you start feeling this way?" Barbara asked Lydia.

"When I reached the steps. I just felt...dread..."

"Maybe we should speak with Juno." Barbara said.

"No, whenever you guys leave, it takes weeks for you to get back. What if something happens while you're gone?" Lydia asked.

"She's right. I don't want to leave just yet..." Adam said.

"How else are we supposed to figure out what's going on?" Barbara splayed her hands in front of her, motioning for the other two to make any suggestions. When none were made, she crossed her arms and stared sternly at her husband. "Honey, we need to go see Juno."

"Not necessary." a cranky old voice rasped, and the three turned to see the old caseworker walk towards them from the broom closet, a freshly lit cigarette in her withered hand. "I've come to see you." she said.

"Juno!" Barbara quickly looked around the room, to make sure it wasn't such a mess. "We didn't expect you!"

"Do you ever?" Juno asked when she reached them. Barbara smoothed out her dress and shook her head.

"Erm, no..." she muttered, glancing distastefully at the cigarette as the smoke wafted around them. "You had to speak with us?" she asked.

"Not you, her." Juno pointed at Lydia, who'd been staring as smoke seeped from the slit in Juno's neck. She wondered what had happened, but figured it would be rude to ask. When Juno pointed at her, her mind snapped back to the situation.

"I'm sorry, what?" she asked. Juno sighed exasperatedly and pointed at her again.

"Me. You. Need speak." she said. "I've made an appointment with you that's scheduled for right now, and we need to get going. I have other clients, you know."

"She can't leave, her parents would wonder-" Barbara began, but Juno silenced her.

"Her parents are going to be thinking for a while that she's gone on an extended vacation with some friends. That'll settle the time she'll lose here in the living world."

"Which will be how long?" Lydia asked. The thought of losing so much time so quickly almost scared her.

"A few weeks. You won't age, so don't get your panties in a twist. Let's go."

"Wait, what's this about?" Adam said, stepping in front of Lydia before she could move forward. "She's not leaving until we know what's going on." Juno glared back at him and puffed her cigarette.

"Maybe you two should come to. You're technically part of this..." she said, and snapped her fingers. The scenery around them shifted instantly, and they were placed inside a large office, cluttered with folders and papers. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling, brushing against Lydia's black hair. She was shocked by the difference in lighting here. It was like everything was under a feint blacklight.

It was fascinating.

"Are we..."

"Welcome to the Netherworld, where everyone goes when they breath their last." Juno said to her. "Disappointing, I know..."

"It's wonderful..." Lydia muttered. Juno huffed.

"If she's so enamored by just my office, it makes me wonder how she'd react if she went outside..."

"Her heart would stop..." Adam said.

"Lydia has always been interested in this place." Barbara said. "She's always asking about it."

"It's just so...different..." Lydia muttered, her eyes trailing over the folders. She lifted one up, and a large black spider ran from under it.

"Excuse me, sorry." It squeaked, and ran off.

"That spider just talked to me..."

"Ginger's my filing assistant. Don't squish her." Juno said.

"Why did you need Lydia?" Adam asked, sitting down in a weathered chair. Juno sat behind her desk and picked up the phone.

"Because I need to ask for her help." she said.

"What can a living girl do to help you?" Barbara asked as Juno punched in some numbers on the phone rest.

"A whole hell of a lot if she agrees to do what I ask."

"Help with what?" Lydia asked. Juno held up a finger for her to wait as the caseworker listened for someone to answer.

"Get your ass over here, I might have something to help your case...Hell no, you're not going to like it..." she slammed the phoned down on the rest and puffed her cigarette. "He's coming."

"Who?"

"Juno?" a blue woman opened the office door and poked her head inside. "That creep is here again. He said you called him?"

"Let him in." Juno said. The receptionist shrugged and moved aside as a figure stumbled in.

"Yo, granny, you said you got somethin'? It sure as hell better wo-...oh, fuck..." he stopped talking when his eyes landed on everyone.

Lydia froze in place, as she took in the figure's appearance. Frizzled green and yellow hair. Grimey complexion. Worn striped suit.

Betelgeuse.


End file.
